


Crossed Clubs

by ophidianpoet



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 01:26:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ophidianpoet/pseuds/ophidianpoet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A second-person exploration of just how dangerous the smallest member of the Midnight Crew can be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crossed Clubs

You wake up slowly, head still pounding. Who the hell hit you? And with what? You can’t remember. As you come to, you realize you’re outside, lying face-up under the harsh desert sun. You can see railroad tracks nearby if you crane your neck up, and a few dead brown bushes scattered here and there. Alarmingly, your wrists and feet are bound with ropes.  
Alright. Alright, calm down. You can deal with this. Another one of the city’s gangs must have gotten wind of your talks with those members of the Dersite court, and your plans to sell them part of Midnight City. Of course, you had no rights to ANY part of the city, but they didn’t know that.  
You attempt to wrench one of your hands free, when footsteps on the sand make you freeze. Someone’s approaching you. A child? No, a man, just very small, wearing black trousers and a white shirt, the first buttons popped open in the face of the desert heat. A black jacket was thrown over his shoulder, and a black porkpie hat was tilted back on his head. He raised a hand in greeting. “Hi!”  
“Who the hell are you?” you snap, angrily.  
“I’m the one who brought you here.” he stated simply, giving you a friendly smile, revealing some of his pointed teeth. What the fuck, this little shrimp did this to me? By himself? you think. He removed a deck of playing cards from his pocket, shuffling them idly.  
“What do you want? I haven’t done anything to you, now untie me you undersized little-“  
You hear the fnap of a card being flipped over, and the little bastard suddenly brings what looks like a bedpost down on your head. You hear a tran whistle in the distance as you groan in pain.  
“Yes you have. You’ve upset me.” he replied. “Now shut up.” he ordered, grabbing the ropes that bound your feet and dragging you towards the tracks. Oh…  
“No, no no nonono, no! Look, I’m sorry, whatever it is, I”m sorry! I’ll do whatever you want, anything, please!” you beg, as the little guy drags you onto the tracks and stands back, flipping another card over.   
“You know what you did. You tried to sell what wasn’t yours.”  
“Oh god, ohgodohgod-” you plead.  
“It seems you’ve forgotten something very important. This city belongs to one man.” he explained, walking over to your face, his fists full of sticks of dynamite. He pries your jaw open, and shoves the explosives inside. The train was approaching now, the tracks vibrating under its weight. He takes a lighter engraved with the club suit from the pocket of his jacket, flicking it open.  
“And I won’t let you try and take it from him.” he finished, lighting the fuses and running back from the tracks with his hands over his ears, and a gleeful grin on his face.


End file.
